Gloomy Sunday
by Fififjonka
Summary: Clark rushes to Luthor's manor with an important thing to do, but finds Lex in a state less than good and the reason behind it leaves him terrified. And to make things even worse, Lex's father decides to visit as well. OneShot. Read and review, please. (Note: The title is inspired by the famous Hungarian song.)


**Gloomy Sunday**

It was after six o'clock in the morning when Clark woke up and - glaring at the ceiling - tried to remember the important thing about that day. He knew it was a thing of top importance, he knew it before going to bed yesterday, but unfortunately couldn't recall it at that moment.

He shifted in the covers, looking out from the window, searching his mind. It was a day with grey sky and raining, pretty gloomy. Gloomy...?

"Lex..."

Clark sat up quickly. How could have he forgotten about this... He dressed himself in a minute, wrote a note on for his parents and left the still sleeping house. After a few stops in shops, he was approaching the Luthor mansion. As he was speeding, he wondered whether Lex would remember. Because if he didn't, this whole thing would turn out pretty idiotic.

Clark smirked lightly, stopping in front of the great manor. He walked inside, once again feeling the strange and unpleasant silence of the huge halls and corridors. And once again he found it odd. Such an incredibly big house, with so many rooms, for so many people, inhabited by few. To add to that, excluding the staff, Lex was living there completely alone. In a house big enough for a smaller village.

He made his way to Lex's bedroom and knocked on the door. When no answer came, he tried it several times before pausing and frowning. Was Lex so deep in sleep? Or was he out of town? But he saw him the day before yesterday - with Lex being at his most melancholic - and he would have told him, wouldn't he?

He made sure nobody was around and looked through the door, seeing Lex was still in his bed.

"OK..."

He knocked for the last time and opened the door, peeking through the shadows and darkness.

"Lex? Are you here?" he asked the silence. Nothing happened for a few seconds and then something moved in the dark and he heard a muffled groan. He saw Lex raise a little from the bed, looking in his direction.

"Who's that?" he asked in an awkward tone.

"Me," Clark said, taking a step inside. Lex switched his bedside lamp on and narrowed his eyes.

"What the..." he murmured and he clearly didn't recognize him. "Who, _me?_"

Clark noticed at the very moment something wasn't right. The room was a mess, clothes laying everywhere and alcohol could be smelled in the air.

"Me, Clark," he explained, moving closer so Lex could look at him. He did that but it took him another couple of seconds to really recognize him.

"Oh..." he moaned, rubbing his face. Clark shook his head.

"So you _do_ remember me..."

"Hope so..." Lex said, trying to get up but falling on side. Clark rushed to him, grabbing him by his arm. As Lex was shirtless, he could feel his skin being hot and sweaty.

"What's wrong, Lex?" he asked him, pretty worried. Lex coughed, struggling to find his balance.

"Shit..." he muttered, looking up at him, keeping his eyes open with maximal effort.

"What are you actually doing here, Clark? Standing there with a donut in your hand?" he asked, puzzled.

"You don't remember? Once you told me the best birthday gift you've ever got was breakfast to bed. Your mother made it for you, right?"

Lex was watching him, his expression a mixture of confusion, surprise and sleepiness and he seemed not being awake yet.

"So that's why I brought you the donut," Clark continued with explaining. "Sorry, they didn't have anything better, I got it over the gas station."

Lex looked at the donut and closed his eyes.

"Thanks, Clark," he said, his voice dull. "I really appreciate it."

"You could have said that at least a little more convincingly..." Clark remarked.

"Sorry, but just looking at the donut makes me sick."

"Gee..." Clark said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'll think twice before buying you a gift next time."

"That's not how I meant it," Lex said and Clark looked at him more closely, paying attention especially do the dark circles under his eyes and the alarming paleness of his face.

"Lex, you look horribly. Have you been celebrating so much?"

Lex just shook his head slightly, holding on the headboard of his bed, dizziness visible in the baffled expression on his face.

"No..." he said after awhile, his voice still hollow, almost like he'd been remembering it all too slowly.

"Only if you call one drinking person a party..."

Clark understood, looking away for a second, not sure what to say.

"Can I get you something? Coffee or -" Lex didn't finish it but put a hand over his mouth.

"Think I'm gonna throw up," he said through his fingers, already hurrying to the bathroom. Clark decided to follow, not sure if Lex were strong enough to handle it on his own. He stood above the sink, leaning his forehead against the wall and breathing deeply.

"Go," he uttered. "There's no need to hold my hair away."

"I'm intending to hold you, you look like you'll pass out any minute."

Lex made an inarticulate sound.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this."

"Shut up," Clark said, "I've seen much worse things. I presume you haven't watched a cow delivering a calf but -"

Lex squeezed his eyes shut and started vomiting with Clark holding him by his shoulders. He could feel the spasms of nausea washing over his friend and didn't even need the direct touch of his skin to know he was feverish. It took about ten minutes and Lex relaxed, leaning against him almost involuntarily. Clark wrapped an arm around him, feeling most of Lex's weight was upon him.

"Lex?" he addressed him silently. "This is not mere hangover, is it?"

Lex gave in a strange, absent smile.

"Well..." he said, mumbling, his tongue heavy. "It's in a fact a gift from my father... Seems he _accidentally_ put sedatives into my glass of brandy so he could go through my laptop while I'd be stoned... If I knew, I probably wouldn't be drinking so hard. That wasn't a good combination."

Clark widened his eyes.

"He could have killed you!"

"Nah... He wouldn't be so lucky."

"Shouldn't I call the doctor?"

Lex glared at him, the denial written in his reddish, glassy eyes.

"No way," he said firmly. "I would rather eat cockroaches than let him touch me."

Clark sighed, being aware of the excessive medical attention Lex received when being young. He decided he'd let him get rid of it and see whether it'd make him feel better.

"Fuck..."

Lex closed his eyes, as a new wave of sickness struck him, and he bowed and started vomiting again. He was evidently poisoned with the mixture of lots of alcohol and pills. Clark squeezed his arm in a supportive gesture, all the time thinking of punching Lex's father right in the face. Where did he get the conviction he could fuck with Lex like that? With his own son?

Clark stretched for a bathrobe, putting it over Lex's shivering shoulders. Lex breathed in shakily, spitting into the sink.

"Are you finished?"

"Just let me die..." Lex murmured with his eyes closed, panting, sounding completely exhausted.

"Let's go back," Clark wisely decided, guarding him back to the bedroom and seating him over the sofa. He had never seen him so submissive. He just let him do what he considered right, letting himself be carried away and placed on the sofa, absolutely obedient. It was almost scary. Suddenly he heard a brief knock on the door and it opened, letting in nobody else than Lionel Luthor. He stopped, surprised a bit with Clark's presence.

"Hello, Mr. Kent," he said, raising an eyebrow and looking at Lex.

"I wouldn't expect you here so early. Did Lex call you to celebrate?"

There was a noticeable hint of sarcasm in his voice, as he glared at his son, obviously not concerned with his state at all.

"Get out," Lex said, standing up.

"Wow, wow..." Lionel Luthor said, smirking. "I'm here to give you my birthday present."

Another man walked inside, leaving a bunch of white roses on the floor.

"Happy birthday, son," Lionel Luthor said, approaching to Lex and hugging him. Lex withdrew from the embrace and Clark felt anger spreading in his chest.

"Did you drug him?" he asked, his voice sharp. "How could you do it? Are you mad? You could have poisoned him!"

Lionel Luthor raised an eyebrow.

"Is that what he thinks? Oh, I'm sorry, Lex. But you can't blame your every hangover on me. Of course _my evil father drugged me_ sounds better than _I drank myself to this state_, but you shouldn't make such things up, Lex. Some people could get confused..."

He patted Lex's shoulder, but Clark still believed Lex was telling him the truth, and like his body moved on his own, he walked toward them and stepped in front of Lex, facing his father.

"I think you should leave," he said.

Lionel Luthor shook his head.

"The day a mere farm boy is telling me to get out of my own house has finally come."

"It's not because of me," Clark said. "It's because of your son. I don't think he wants to see you."

"And you believe him the nonsense about drugs?" Lionel Luthor asked, surprised. "Haven't you known him long enough to see he's paranoid? And has the habit of accusing me of everything bad that happens to him? On the other hand, not even I've expected he'd blame me for being sick and throwing up after his pitiful sole intoxication."

Lionel Luthor laughed briefly. Clark stopped his arm from punching his nose deep into his face.

"You're disgusting," he said only. A smile remained on the other man's face.

"Yes, I see Lex took good care of making me the villain of the year. Well, I'll take my leave then, let you two play alone. I'll see you soon, Lex. Hope you'll look better, though..." he said, giving him an observant look and frowning.

"You remind me of a corpse a bit," he added, but turned and left the room. Clark stared after him, absolutely bewildered. He turned back at Lex, who was sitting on the sofa with a hand of his face.

"Is this normal?" Clark asked.

"Considering my father? Yes..."

Clark shook his head. He could still catch up with him and break his face. But he was more concerned about Lex's bad condition. His father's visit didn't help either.

"Here," Clark wiped off the sweat and moisture from Lex's face with a wet towel. Lex leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

"Drink this," Clark ordered him, holding a glass of water to his lips till he took a sip, as Lex was too weak to hold the glass on his own.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes, thank you..."

"Why did he give you the white roses?"

Lex just smirked sourly.

"He gave exactly the same roses to my mother on the day Julian was born. It's a reminder, actually, not a gift."

Clark opened his mouth but Lex stopped him before he could say anything.

"Don't, Clark. Seeing me in this state is enough, you don't have to struggle with finding a way how to comfort me."

Clark sighed.

"I'll take them away," he said. "So you won't see them. And mum will love them, I'm sure."

"Good. You can go now, Clark. I'll be fine, you don't have to stay with me here. And thanks for the donut..."

Clark watched him, as he was laying on the sofa, pale and still not opening his eyes, appearing to be absolutely devastated. Soon he realized he was still holding the donut and was more than angry. He got up then, walking over the window and opening it to let the fresh air in.

"You _do_ like _Loonies_, right?"

Lex raised an eyebrow, half-opening an eye, obviously surprised Clark had still been there.

"You mean the cartoon mouses trying to kill each other in every episode?"

"Hey, don't play it on me," Clark said, already going through his DVD collection. He knew it was one of Lex's weaknesses and that he loved the show. He put it into the recorder and sat down into the corner of the sofa opposite to Lex, throwing him a blanket before turning the TV on.

"Don't tell me you can't think of anything better to do than watching cartoons with a wasted billionaire brat," Lex remarked and Clark turned at him.

"Well, yes, I can think of punching your father in the face."

Lex snorted slightly with amusement.

"Sounds like fun," he said. "Could you record it for me? I think I'd prefer it over_ Loonies_. Would make a perfect bedtime story."

"Sure, anything for my best friend."

Lex smiled wearily, but with an obvious sign of gratitude. Clark patted his shoulder before focusing on the show. He quite enjoyed it, to tell the truth, and caught himself laughing aloud several times. When he glared at Lex, he saw him smile a little. Clark wondered how he felt distant from Lex from time to time, like there was an invisible wall in between them, and despite he tried to climb it, he couldn't. But at this moment, the wall seemed to be gone.

"What about your appetite?" he asked him and Lex rolled his eyes.

"Not in the following ten years, thanks. But if you're hungry, order anything you'd like."

"No, I don't wanna -"

"Shut up and order something," Lex cut him short, his voice almost commanding. "It's my damn birthday party. I know it sucks but you won't at least be hungry."

Clark grinned. He took the phone and called like every meal delivery firm and ordered almost everything he could think of, massively encouraged by Lex's constant nodding of approval. In an hour they were buried in pizza and kung-pao boxes, bottles of cola and beer and packets of sweets. Clark helped himself to a piece of chocolate cake, washing it down with a sip of beer. That day he found the new best show in the world - _Loonies_. They watched four seasons in a row and he still wanted more.

"Too bad we don't have any fried chicken..." Clark remarked. Lex, who'd been sipping a bottle of coca-cola, just waved his arm.

"Order some more."

"If you insist... But I don't think I'll survive so much food, though," he said and Lex smirked. Colour was slowly seeping back into his face and the circles under his eyes were vanishing, although he still looked weak and tired. In a break between two DVDs of _Loonies_, he gave Clark a look.

"This is probably the best birthday party I've had, would you believe it?"

"Absolutely," Clark said, landing back on the sofa. "Your father drugged you and you look like on your death bed. The best party ever."

Lex narrowed his eyes, throwing a pillow at him. Clark avoided it, grinning. Lex curled his bloodless lips into a smirk.

"Just because you've had better ones doesn't mean this one's not good," he said. "Even if you're here mostly out of sympathy and also because you're so awfully kind you don't know how to leave."

"You kidding? I'm here because of the fried chicken and_ Loonies._"

"You're heartless," Lex said and Clark laughed briefly, taking another sip of beer.

"Hey, don't try to pretend you don't know why I'm here. Screw some sympathy, you're my best friend and I wanted to be with you on your birthday in the first place. And I like it. Now stop bothering me, next episode of _Loonies_' coming."

Lex shook his head, smiling, and Clark returned to watching the show. They didn't talk about it anymore but chatted about casual things for the rest of the day - as Clark spent it whole with Lex - till the sun went down again and his best friend started dozing off. Clark got up, walking over him and shaking his shoulder gently.

"Lex?"

"Yes?" he said, looking up.

"Go back to bed, you're still exhausted. I'm gonna go home but will check on you tomorrow in the morning, right?"

Lex opened his mouth, ready to tell him to not bother, but then he changed his mind and just nodded, sitting up slowly.

"Good," Clark said and held out his arm. Lex took it and they shook their hands.

"Happy birthday, Lex," Clark said and Lex smiled.

"Yes, it was."


End file.
